


Depth of Satan's Eyes

by dark_lord_cuddleslut



Category: Ghost (Swedish Band)
Genre: Fluff, Frottage, M/M, Masturbation, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-24
Updated: 2016-04-24
Packaged: 2018-06-04 05:15:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,877
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6642715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dark_lord_cuddleslut/pseuds/dark_lord_cuddleslut
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Being out on tour means a lot of nights in lonely hotel rooms. It's too quiet for Omega to sleep, so he needs a little distraction.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Depth of Satan's Eyes

**Author's Note:**

  * For [djavjr](https://archiveofourown.org/users/djavjr/gifts).



> This is a very light-canon fic. I tend to prefer the idea of Papa being the same through the years, instead of three different people. I’ve also relaxed the hierarchy/mask rules a bit. It’s a little closer to what the reality might be I guess? There’s kind of the accepted idea in here that Papa is played by someone, with the attempt to give that person the anonymity he wishes, and without focusing on his identity or appearance, or the identity or appearance of any of the ghouls.

It was one of those rare times where Omega was completely alone. Sometimes he didn’t know what to do with himself. He spent so much time with Papa and his brothers that it seemed foreign to be alone. For lack of a better word, it was tremendously… lonely. He couldn’t sleep. He sat awake in his hotel room, unmasked, staring at the shadows on the wall. He paused in the quiet, even holding his breath, trying to hear some sign of his brothers in the rooms next to him. He wondered if perhaps they, too, were awake.

Eventually, the quiet got the better of him. He leaned over to the end table next to his bed and fumbled in the darkness for his phone. The ghoul always brought a nice set of headphones wherever he went - not uncommon among musicians. Regardless of what he forgot in the bus, he never forgot those headphones. Toothpaste he would forget, deodorant, even his balaclava once, but not his Sennheisers. He knew their touch immediately, and his body relaxed. It was the touch of comfortable familiarity.

Omega took them along with his phone and the TV remote, and gathered his treasures in his lap atop the blanket. He flipped the TV on and muted it, idly switching through channels as he decided on what to listen to. Much to his delight, Nosferatu was on. He smiled for what felt like the first time in hours. Anyone else would have thought it to be so unusual for the most outgoing of all the ghouls to be in such a mood, but it was a feeling he knew intimately, if privately. Listening to the silence for a little longer, he unlocked his phone and scrolled through for an album to break it. Arch Enemy… Behemoth… _no_ … Ensiferum… _hmm_ …

He smiled, seeing Ghost scroll by. He saw the album covers come and go, and his life through each pulsed in his mind. He stopped and set the phone down, his eyes glazing over as he stared through the television. _You lucky fuck_ , he thought to himself. His mind drifted to his brothers, to Papa. The ghoul closed his eyes for a moment, and the night’s ritual played against his eyelids. His smile grew as he thought about playing so close to Alpha, harmonizing perfectly as they moved together. He remembered how it felt to have Papa over his shoulder, fully dressed in chasuble and mitre, presenting Omega to the congregation.

He scrolled back, staring at the covers again, his eyes caressing Papa Emeritus each time. _How lame is it to want to listen to your own band_ , he thought to himself, knitting his brow. They were songs he had both heard and performed hundreds, maybe even thousands of times. He had heard them in every stage of development. He knew them when they were nothing more than a verse, or a few chords strung together. He knew Meliora when it was just an idea.

Omega sighed and leaned back against the headboard. The feeling was only getting worse. He secretly hoped that the thud made a loud enough noise for Papa to hear from his room next door. Maybe he would knock. _Fuck it_ , he thought, and pressed play. In the silence, the music was plenty audible even without his headphones, but he wanted to feel it surround him. The naked ghoul slid back under the sheets and sighed. _You are an idiot_.

He closed his eyes and listened to the opening chant of Year Zero, his mouth helplessly forming the words as they played over his headphones. Even the simple sound of he and his brothers playing the same opening riffs he had heard them play hundreds of times before made him feel less alone. Omega tried to silence the voice that continued to mock him for listening to the very band he played for.

Then there was Papa’s voice. He recalled hearing Papa practice it in the studio, alone. Well, he thought he was alone. Omega had behind the door, lingering behind after his brothers went for lunch. Just to pick up his headphones. And Papa was alone in the studio, without the tracks running. He was still learning the lyrics. They were sitting in his lap. He was dressed so informally, and though it was a common occurrence that they recorded in relatively plain clothes, it was suddenly very striking to the ghoul. Instead of joining his brothers, he sat at the mixing console and watched, spellbound. Gone was the formality of ritual. Papa was simply a man.

Even through the production, Omega could still hear that lone, isolated voice, rising above his guitar, consistently chanting in the background. He could hear every breath. He could hear the harmonies separated at Papa practiced them - three angelic voices converging to preach the coming of the Antichrist. Unmasked, sitting on a stool in the live room in a simple black, suit.

Omega’s eyes were staring through the ceiling. The song reached its climax, and he realized he had an erection. He couldn’t help but be amused, but he was too aroused to laugh at himself. He looked down at it and made it twitch a couple of times just to watch it tent the sheet he was under. Omega shook his head. _At least it’s better than feeling like shit_ , he thought.

He reached down to touch himself through the sheet as Year Zero faded into Body and Blood. The sound of Papa’s voice was so close to him, it was as if he was singing right over the ghoul’s shoulder. That clean tenor, free of the spooky accent that he paraded around on stage. Soft and clear. The ghoul hummed quietly as he touched himself, imagining Papa singing to him. The forbidden name of the man behind the mask danced on his tongue. Knowing the secret, he couldn’t help it. _Touch me, Papa_.

His body and blood  
Sharing in common  
His body and blood

Frustrated, he slid his hand under the sheet, teasing his bare skin with his fingertips. “Ja, Papa, please,” he whispered. “Don’t tease me so.” His eyes shut tightly and he bit his lip. Agonizingly loosely, he rested his thumb and fingers against the top and bottom of his length and dragged them slowly from the base of his shaft to the tip. “Papa, I want you…” He thrusted up against his hand, struggling to elicit a little more friction from his own gentle touches. He was already squirming helplessly between the sheets. Omega underestimated just how loud he was when he couldn’t hear himself. His headphones were turned up high enough that he was completely ignorant of how vociferous his moans were becoming.

His hand tightened around his cock. He arched his back and clashed with the headboard, knocking it into the wall. The ghoul was starting to pant. He hung on every word that Papa sung, hearing new meaning that he felt was shared solely between the two of them.

An existence as a human  
Is leaden monotony  
With all desires drowned  
Impure sanctimony

With his eyes shut, he did not notice that the very object of his desires had wandered into his room. The sharp bang against his wall had awakened Papa, and though the outside door to the ghoul’s room was bolted, the inner doors connecting their rooms had been left unlocked. He had intended to take a peek - perhaps more out of curiosity than genuine worry - but when he saw Omega rhythmically thrusting his hips against the bed, he was transfixed.

The ghoul’s headphones leaked just enough music in the quiet for Papa to know exactly what Omega was listening to. It struck him suddenly what was going on - he felt incredibly embarrassed, but his body had a different reaction to watching Omega touch himself. The ghoul was moaning his name like a string of profanities, grunting and furiously thrusting against his hand. “Oh, Papa,” he whimpered, “Yes, just like that… don’t stop Papa, don’t stop!”

Papa looked at the door briefly before returning his gaze back to Omega. His heart throbbed in his chest. “Omega…” He intoned lowly. “Omega, can you hear me?” No response. He feared if the ghoul found him in his room that it would humiliate Omega, but knowing what the ghoul wanted made it difficult for him to consider returning to his room.

It was then that Papa uttered a name that was not Omega. It was a different name. A name that the ghoul had never heard Papa say, and in the silence before La Mantra Mori began playing, Omega heard that name very, very clearly. He jolted upright, attempting to cover himself, throwing his headphones off. His mouth hung open. The two of them stared at each other in the renewed and now shared silence of the quiet hotel room. To Omega, it felt like an eternity. He repeated the name softly, trailing off, widened eyes gawking at the naked ghoul. He took a moment to appreciate how well-built he was. Under their vestments, it was difficult to tell, and Omega bore his build in a way that hid itself well even under what they affectionately referred to as their ‘roadie clothes’. There was a thin sheen of sweat on his skin, and his chest rose and fell with heavy breaths.  
The poor ghoul was like a deer in headlights, but the fear and shock did little to appease his erection, especially now that he was in the presence of Papa Emeritus. There was no way out of it. Excuses flooded his mind, but none of them would be sufficient. “Uh… ah… Papa… how… h-how much did you…”

Papa grinned. “Enough to know how you like to be touched… and by whom.” The joviality in his expression faded slightly. “Jag vet.” He walked closer to Omega, still catching his breath, half-covered under the sheets. The ghoul was holding himself up by his hands pushing against the bed. “I know everything.” There was a certain sinister tone to his voice. He knelt onto the bed, gently placing Omega’s still-blaring headphones onto the pillow. “I know how much you want me. I know what you want me to do to you.”

Omega was frozen as he gazed up at Papa. “What are you going to do?”

“Exactly what you want.” As he leaned against the bed with one knee, Omega could clearly see the outline of Papa’s arousal against the leg of his pants.

“You… feel the same way?”

Papa nodded. “Yes, my child… my friend.” He reached out for the ghoul’s hand, bringing it to his lips and kissing it before bringing it to rub against the stiff bulge in his pants. “We’ve been close for many years, haven’t we? Maybe too afraid of what this means?” He leaned down to press his lips gently to Omega’s. “No more of that.” Without breaking his gaze, and keeping his face close to the ghoul’s, he slid across Omega’s body. Papa straddled his waist, kneeling atop him as he gazed down at the ghoul.

An utterance halfway between a moan and a groan escaped the ghoul’s lips as his length strained against Papa’s still-clothed ass. “Oh, fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck!” He could not keep his body from rolling his hips up against Papa. “Jävla helvetes! Jävla skit!” He gasped breathlessly. Boldly he wrapped his arms around Papa’s back, pulling their bodies together.

Papa responded by rolling his hips up against Omega’s. Through layers of sheets and clothes, their erections rubbed together, the friction caused by Papa’s force almost unbearable to the little ghoul. Brought close by Omega’s embrace, he nuzzled his lips against the ghoul’s neck. Regardless of his quick thrusts, he was still able to trace the ghoul’s jugular with his tongue, licking it from the base of his collarbone to just beneath his ear.

“Papa, Papa! I want… I w-want you to cum inside me!” The ghoul begged, starting to clutch more insistently at Papa’s back. “I’m-so-close… a-ah! I-don’t-want-to… unh… I don’t want to cum… without you!”

Still near Omega’s ear, he growled softly against it. “Not tonight, my little ghoul.” His breaths were growing more and more ragged. He threw back the sheet between them and tugged down his pants just far enough to expose their bodies to each other, skin-to-skin. “Tonight, I am going to cum all over you.” Their cocks rubbed together, slick with precum. Leaning back, he grasped them between his hands, holding them together as he allowed them to rub across Papa’s smooth hands.

“Shit! Fuck!” Omega wailed. The feeling of Papa’s fingers rubbing against his cock was becoming too much to bear. He could feel every divot between his digits, and combined with the throbbing erection pressed against his own, knowing they belonged to his beloved Papa, he was precariously close to release.

“Not yet, little ghoul!” Papa demanded. Much to Omega’s horror, Papa let go of the ghoul’s cock, while keeping his own in his hand. “Ah… Ah!” He gripped his shaft tightly, his movements making a quickening, rhythmic smacking of flesh-on-flesh. “Yes, yes, oh fuck, Omega, a-ah!” He felt himself edging closer and closer, the throbbing in his body intensifying as he gazed down at the writhing ghoul, consumed in the agony of denial. Papa slid his hand around Omega’s shaft at long last, with the very clear intent of bringing him over the edge. “Now… I permit you to cum.”

“Aaah! Herre Satan!” The ghoul spat out, his whole body trembling at first, shuddering, and then tensing completely. Papa continued to stroke them both for as long as he had the energy to, pulling them past the edge, stimulating them both almost to the point of pain. His body bucked against the ghoul’s, thrusting as much against his own hand as against Omega’s hips.

“Oh, yes, love, yes…” He leaned back against the ghoul, and with one bare chest against the other, Papa rutted against Omega’s body until he too came, panting and gasping the ghoul’s name. He collapsed completely with heavy breaths rising and falling against Omega’s chest.

The ghoul was almost incoherent, whimpering beneath Papa, limp arms by his side helplessly clutching at the sheets with clawed hands. He was moaning and sighing a blasphemous chant of Papa’s names, lightheaded from release, clarity having completely escaped him.

He clutched tightly to Omega, one hand grasping his shoulder, the other gently stroking his hair. Silence was slowly returning to the room, but it was not the empty silence that once kept the ghoul from sleeping. His headphones had fallen off the pillow, but they were still audible from the floor. Closer to his ears was Papa’s breaths. Over and over in his mind he replayed Papa’s words - all the names he had called him, all the moans that he felt would sate him forever. After what felt like eternity, he met with Papa’s eyes for the first time since he came, gazing into them. “Jag älskar dig, Papa. I’m sorry. I can’t hide it anymore.”

Papa seemed genuinely surprised by Omega’s confession. “It’s alright, child.” He was too struck with disbelief to smile, but what he felt was a sublime happiness. “I love you, too.” His expression softened, still awestruck, but adoring. “My beloved Omega.” He held the ghoul gently in his arms.

***  
Reluctantly, Papa rose from the bed. “I’ve made a mess of you.” He grinned with amusement and walked to the sink.

“It’s kind of gross, actually.” Omega laughed, attempting to look down at his chest.

“But worth it, no?” There was a hint of the ghoulish Papa Emeritus accent in his voice, and it set the ghoul at ease. He took a washcloth off the counter and ran it under the faucet before squeezing it out in the sink.

“Yes, Father.” He replied with practiced obedience. Papa brought back the washcloth and a dry towel, and began to gently clean Omega’s cum-covered midsection. It was a very matter-of-fact manner in which he did so, not seeming to think much of it.

“Perhaps we can both get some much-needed rest, now.” Taking a clean towel from the bathroom, he dried the ghoul off and sat down beside him on the bed.

“You’re not leaving, are you?”

“Only if you want me to.”

Omega shook his head. “I think… maybe… it would be nice to sleep together. To actually sleep.”

“Eyes closed? Unconscious?”

The ghoul laughed. “Yeah, you know, like normal fucking people.”

“Okej,” Papa relented, “but normal? It will be the only normal thing we ever do, little ghoul.” He took the towel to himself, using his fingertips to double-check his work. He stood, draping the towel over himself like his ritual chasuble, and spread his arms wide. “For we do the work of Satan, child.” Papa Emeritus’s accent was back for another moment. Clad only in a white bathtowel, he wiggled back and forth slightly, his flaccid length hitting his inner thighs with a dull slap.

Omega laughed and covered his head with the sheet. “You are a nerd. A big nerd. What if the congregation saw us both like this?”

“OUR congregation?” He raised his brow and grinned. “I don’t think they would mind.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to the lovely gentlemen of Ghost for being such a welcome kindling for my creativity. Your music means so much to me.
> 
> Thank you Djavjr, devoted to this pairing, to whom this work is dedicated.


End file.
